Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

The Raven - Edgar Allan Poe

Chapter Two:

Have you ever been so irrevocably interested in someone it was near impossible to avert your attention elsewhere?

That's how I felt. And that's how I think, he felt.

After the shop incident I lied to Takako telling her I fell over. She believed me. What reason would I have to lie after-all? It wasn't like I was keeping a secret.. which I was. But it wasn't anything big, I was doing her a favour in a way. She didn't need to know about my past. It was the past after all and how does the saying go? You should live in the present, yeah, something like that.

She knew I was staring after him though. That I could not cover up. That I did not want to cover up. I wanted answers, I needed to know more than just his name, I needed to know about him; and so I simply asked.

"Who is that strange boy?"

"Huh? You mean Kazuo Kiriyama?" she asked, bemused. I couldn't help but frown at her reaction, it was so.. so.. offhanded.

"Yeah, him, Kazuo. He's a bit.. different." I searched for the right word to use. Her reaction surprised me, she smirked and took a swig from her soda before replying. We walked side by side in the blistering summer heat, and I slightly resented my school blazer at that moment. I needed to make a point of leaving it at home like all the other girls. It was rather useless, or for a better term, it was more of a burden than anything during the hot June weather.

"He doesn't talk much to anyone." she said. "In fact, I think we've only spoken a handful of times in the three years we've both attended this school."

"Oh." I replied. I wonder why he lacked conversation skills. Did he think himself too high to converse with others? Was he arrogant or conceited? It just didn't seem that way to me, he was so graceful, elegant and dare I say it beautiful. But he still gave the impression of appearing callous. Even then I could tell that there was something dark and calculating about him. That he was not all there, if you get my drift. His eyes were void of any positive emotion. Weren't the eyes the window to ones soul? If I looked in to his eyes I doubt I'd find a soul, maybe a reflection of myself. Was he like a mirror? When I looked at him, when I saw him, it made me think twice about myself. Who I was. What I could be and what I wanted to be.

"Why the sudden interest in Kazuo anyway? I've never seen him with a girl. Some guys in the years above think he's gay." she whispered the last part like she was whispering a dirty little secret. I couldn't help but wonder whether she may be homophobic.

"Do you believe that?" I asked, genuinely interested by her answer.

"Well, as I said, I've never seen him with a girl before. And plus, that guy he hangs out with you know.. Sho, he's gay too. Maybe they have a thing going on." she suggested.

"Hah. I doubt that." I scoffed. I had nothing against gay people at all but Kazuo just didn't seem like he liked boys. He didn't seem like he liked girls either. Which led me to believe he may in fact be asexual. Perhaps I'd ask him one day, or.. maybe not.

Takako's house was big. Three floors. Relatively modern and exceptionally well furnished.
She was one of the better off families as my mother liked to say. Her parents were both lawyers which was all well because as I mentioned before, Takako was beautiful. Lawyers were supposed to have beautiful children.

We hung out in her room at first, sipping on lemonade and flicking through various magazines. She was chatting about a boy from our class. Hiroki something or the other. I had never spoken to him but I knew they were both closely acquainted, and she informed me she wanted me to meet him so I could give her my honest opinion. If she liked him then I was sure I would find him just fine.

It was at around 10:00pm when I decided to excuse myself and go home. I had fun with Takako and I thanked her and her parents for having me over. She hugged me and promised to see me at school the next day. Except I never did see her the next day, or the day after that, or the day after that.

It was when I was walking home. The distance wasn't exceptionally far, and it would only take fifteen minutes maximum to reach home. I had been taking a short cut, humming to myself and happy with the way the days events played out. That was really rare, I usually ended up in my room crying by the end of the day. Today was exceptional however and I was adamant to get home and sleep, already excited for the next day.

It was dark out and the moonlight pierced through the clouds that swayed evenly through the twilight sky. It was faintly chilly with a slight breeze, this automatically made me pull my blazer more tightly around me. That was when I heard a strange gurgling noise, almost like the sound a baby would make when it was blowing bubbles. It would have been instantly disturbing if I had known the source and cause of the noise but I did not, so instead I surveyed the area with a raised eyebrow and carried on.

The gurgling noise increased this time. The drains perhaps? Along side I could hear a desperate rasp and choking sound. My heart froze and the little hairs on the back of my neck rose to stand on end. Nope definitely not a drain. Drains don't make choking sounds.

What on Earth is that?

I wasn't quite sure what to do at that moment so instead I remained deathly still, listening out for the sound again. Perhaps someone was in trouble? Wouldn't it be my duty to help them? But what could I possibly do, there were no houses around this area to call for help and my phone was out of battery. Taking a deep breath I decided in appreciation for my earlier rescue that afternoon I would attempt, yes, attempt to help whoever was in trouble. So carefully and attentively I made my way past a few trash cans and picked my way to over where I thought the noise was coming from.

When I saw the source of the noise I gasped out-loud, eyes wide.

There, wedged between a wall and the assailant was a boy with a switchblade uncomfortably situated through his throat. If the situation hadn't been so serious, I would have scoffed at my choice of words because 'uncomfortably' was clearly a drastic understatement. His eyes were wide, bloodshot and red, he was gasping for breath, trying to encourage the oxygen to work it's way through his throat. But it was clear his windpipe had been severed, and his attempts at breathing were more in vain than anything. Crimson life trickled down his throat staining his white school shirt and pooling out around his chest. His face was also covered in blood from a large gash on his forehead which looked as if that alone should have killed him, or send him in to a deep coma. His face was impossible to make out through all the blood and grazes that littered his chin and cheeks. I could hear the death rattle emitting from his lips and I knew he didn't have long left.

What was worse was the stench. I gagged at it offended my nostrils and burned at the back of my throat.

What the fuck was that?

I can not even describe to you the rancidity of that odor. It smelt like a thousand corpses had been chopped up in to tiny pieces and left to rot in all the crevices and cracks that were strewn across the walls. I retched bringing up fizzy liquid and stomach bile that burned fiercely at the back of my throat. It was then that I noticed something even worse than the stench. I noticed the assailant, and he had noticed me.

We stared at one another for a moment, taking in each others physique. He was tall, lanky but beneath his white shirt I could see he was well built. The muscles in his arms were flexed and he was clearly tense. Then my breath caught at the back of my throat and my blood turned to ice. Blonde messy hair, those dark eyes that seemed almost obsidian and that perfect face.

Kazuo Kiriyama stood before me once again.

His eyes held no surprise. It was almost as if he was expecting me to be there, where as mine held the opposite. I could not feign anything remotely close to what he felt. I was shocked, disgusted but most of all I felt a feeling that I could not pin down. I suppose it was a mixture of fear and interest which repulsed me. Kazuo stood watching me, his hand clenched around the boy's school shirt holding him up against the wall. The boy had long since passed out now, either that, or he was dead and I can assure you I was not about to stick around to be his next victim.

Kazuo seemed to interpret the expression on my face and made to walk towards me. The moment he took that first step, his perfectly polished black shoe making contact with the concrete was the moment my legs darted out from beneath me running in the opposite direction. I did not hear him take off after me. He didn't bother. And I did not look back, I just kept running, certain he'd get me sooner or later.